


Every Day a New Day

by The Big Roman (Hammocker)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bagels, Bagels are a specialty, Early Mornings, M/M, Pre-Slash, Roman Sionis is a Breakfast Mogul, Roman has his face
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 05:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/The%20Big%20Roman
Summary: If you twisted Jason Todd's arm, then he'd have to say that breakfast was his favorite meal. It was the first daily reminder of the modest success he'd built for himself, simple and pleasurable. Of course, even a favorite, regular activity can set off an unexpected chain of events.





	Every Day a New Day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is gonna be another one of those fics that won't get updated regularly at all. I don't even have a full story planned out, just some ideas, and I'm alright with that. If I can find it in me to write and finish more chapters, then that happens, but I make no promises. All that assuming anyone cares about this bagel shop AU fic anyway.

It wasn’t unusual for Jason to be up around six in the morning, putting together breakfast for himself. He took an early shift at the library and didn’t mind that. He was an early bird, always had been.

What was unusual was Jason deciding to treat himself and have breakfast at a cafe instead of his apartment. He could have taken his bike on his way, but parking was always a pain and the walking was good for him. The place he had in mind was on the route to work too, so he wouldn’t have to worry about time. So once he’d rolled out of bed, brushed his teeth, and gotten dressed, that’s exactly what Jason set out to do. He grabbed his phone and wallet, and headed out the door with purpose.

Now, Jason knew very well that most breakfast places were open at five in the morning or earlier. PanGo - short for Panaterria Gottico - bakeries in particular were always open by six at latest. Jason knew that for a fact, given that he passed by this one every day on his way to work. Six in the morning and PanGo was hopping with people getting their coffee and bagels, always. The only thing that surprised Jason more than the sign was the lack of rioting around him. 

Why would there be rioting? One little crudely hand-written note that read: “Opening late today. Thanks for your patience.” The hand-written sign clashed with the modern onyx and white, and polished, faux-wood furniture of the interior, but less so with the rest of the dingy old street. Maybe everyone had just gone to another of the places, seeing as PanGo places were about as common in Gotham as Starbucks in any other city.

For Jason, though, this was his only chance at a decent breakfast that day. If he went to work, then that was that, he’d have to wait for lunch, and Jason just wasn’t in that kind of mood today.

He was tempted to accept his fate and keep moving, but something kept Jason where he was. It couldn’t hurt to try the door. Maybe he could ask when exactly “late” was to see if he could wait that long. So that’s exactly what Jason did.

To his surprise, the door swung open easily and gave off a light bell chime, though, Jason didn’t see any bells. Despite the place supposedly being closed, the whole room was permeated with the warm, comforting scent of baked goods, and Jason felt braver, approaching the counter slowly. Despite the smell and the open door, though, the place was empty. He suddenly felt more than a little silly barging in like that. Maybe it had been a bad idea, coming in when the place was obviously closed. Maybe it had been a bad idea to treat himself at all.

Jason was ready to turn around and leave when he heard someone chatter from the back room, followed by heavy footsteps and the door being pushed open.

A man stepped out, glancing around until Jason swallowed at the sight of him. He wasn’t dressed in the typical polo and dress pants employees wore, instead he was wearing a full-on suit, and one that exuded expense at that. His face only drove the point home, all neat, slicked hair and sharp, regal cheekbones. He must have been a manager, or maybe even some other bigwig. Nonetheless, Jason couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away.

“What’re you doing in here?” the man asked, scrunching his brow in bewilderment. “We don’t open ‘til seven.”

Jason managed a shrug. “Door was open. Figured I’d come in and at least ask about that.”

The man gave a guttural rumble and reached up to rub his temples, mumbling something that sounded like “...can’t even lock a door.”

“Well, what’re you here for?” he asked, impatience turned to curt hospitality.

“Uh. Breakfast. What else would I be here for?”

“Right, right,” the man mumbled, even as his eyes slid off to the side.

Jason waited for something, maybe for him to ask what Jason wanted, maybe for something else entirely.

“You seem like a discerning kinda guy,” the man said, his tone shifted to something more pleasant and amiable. “Maybe we can do a help me, help you. You got time?”

Jason shrugged before giving a cautious nod. “Yeah, a little under an hour”

“Perfect,” the man practically purred. “I need to give a demonstration, and it’s gonna take a third party to get my point across. Why don’t you sit down and give me a minute?”

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back behind the counter and into the back room. Jason was left standing there. He glanced to a nearby table, still not entirely sure if he should really sit down. He’d been told to, but- well, he supposed that the worst anyone could do was yell at him and kick him out. Hopefully.

Jason sat, keeping his back straight, and clasping his hands together on the table. He turned his head, taking in the whole place. It was all so- clean. Modern. Tasteful. Despite the reasonable pricing of the food and drinks, he still felt comically out of place in his plain, worn clothes. The only means he had to take his mind off of that was thumb twiddling.

Not long after he’d been left alone, a whole host of what must have been employees came filing out into the room. One of them approached Jason with a tray that he set down on his table before backing off. A semi-circle formed around him, and Jason swallowed; he hadn’t known that he’d have so many eyes on him. He had to glance down at the tray to avoid looking at them, and found two near-identical bagels on the tray.

It was then that the man from earlier came over and sat across from Jason, one leg crossing over the other.

“I’d appreciate if you could take a taste of each of these and give us all a comparison,” he said, elegant as ever.

“I-” Jason took a deep breath before nodding. “Alright.”

He stared at the two bagels again, tilting his head to one side and then the other. They looked identical, just like he’d first thought. He wondered if he should smell them as well, but judging by the expectant look of the man, he kind of doubted it. Too fancy a place for that.

Might as well get this over with quickly, in any case. Jason picked up one of the bagels and took a quick bite. He chewed for a moment, paying as much attention to the flavor as he could. It was certainly a decent bagel. Jason didn’t have much of a frame of reference beyond frozen bagels. The room was eerily quiet all the while, only adding to the turning in his stomach.

“That’s- good,” he finally offered, glancing around the room. “Really good.”

No one spoke. Right, they probably wanted to hear which one he liked more. Jason hoped.

He picked up the second and took a bite, just like the first. This time, though, it was somehow more coarse and didn’t come apart quite as nicely.

“I, uh…” Jason glanced at the people around him again, before looking at the man across from him. “I mean. It’s not awful, but-”

“And this is what I mean, people,” the man said, making to stand up to address his staff.

“What’s the difference?” Jason dared to ask.

“That is a proper yeasted wheat bagel,” the man explained, pointing to the first bagel. “What you have in your mouth is all-purpose white flour filler garbage.”

Jason swallowed what remained despite the disparaging remark. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say no to it.”

The manager shook his head at that.

“See, we don’t settle for that around here, kid. Now, I don’t know how white flour found its way into the bagels here-” He swept his gaze over his employees, and they seemed to shrink under his gaze. “-but I assure you, it won’t be happening again. Dismissed.”

The staff dispersed on that, most of them returning to the back, while a few stayed behind the counter, and one moved to get retrieve the crude door sign. The manager turned back to Jason.

“Thanks for that,” he said. “You really drove the point home.”

“Uh, sure, no problem,” Jason mumbled, still recovering from being put on the spot. “You make the bagels in-house?”

The man wrinkled his nose like the question personally offended him.

“What else would they be? Shipped in frozen?” the man scoffed. “What kind of animal do you think I am?

Jason could only shrug. That’s how he figured most bagels came, frozen and heated up in microwave.

“Where are my manners?” the man said, offering his hand. “Roman Sionis.”

Jason felt his blood run cold. Sionis? He’d been talking to a _Sionis_ this whole time?

“I’m Jason Todd. If it matters.”

“Of course it matters,” Sionis said with a casual laugh. “I need to know how to sign your check.”

Jason grabbed his bag and pushed himself to his feet, avoiding Sionis’ eye. “Keep your money.”

“At least have the rest of your bagel,” Sionis said, a note of confusion in his tone.

“No, thank you,” Jason snapped back, unable to keep his tone civil any longer.

He didn’t let Sionis get another word out before he was pushing the door open, and hurrying down the street. He’d had no idea that PanGo was owned by the Sionis family, and now that he did, he had no intention of ever going back to one. Bagel or no bagel, Jason wasn’t interested in putting money in the pocket of some Gotham rich boy who’d never had to work for anything in his life.

Some principles were worth even an empty stomach.


End file.
